The Last Dr Drakken Story
by TU160
Summary: It's approximately 9 years after the end of the series and Drew Lipsky's life is in shambles. Rated M for language, alcohol use and character death. My first posted story, please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any Kim Possible character, The Disney Corporation owns them all. Since I'm not doing this for profit, maybe they'll let me slide.

This story was inspired by Marvel Comics who occasionally publish a one-shot comic with titles like The Last Hulk Story, The Last Avengers Story, The Last Punisher Story and so forth. The premise is pretty self-evident I think.

This story takes place approximately 9 years after the end of the series

The Last Dr. Drakken Story

By TU160

_Transmitting communicator signal…no reply_

_Searching for tracker transmission…no signal detected_

_Transmitting communicator signal…no reply_

_Searching for tracker transmission…no signal detected_

_Transmitting communicator signal…no reply_

_Searching for tracker transmission…no signal detected_

_Transmitting communicator signal…no reply_

_Searching for tracker transmission…no signal detected_

_Transmitting communicator signal…no reply_

_Searching for tracker transmission…no signal detected_

_Transmitting communicator signal…no reply_

_Searching for tracker transmission…no signal detected_

Drew Lipskey sat alone in his darkened laboratory and watched, without really seeing, as those damning words scrolled endlessly across the computer monitor; as they had nonstop for the past eight weeks. He was barefoot and wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt, the same clothing he had slept in and the same garments he had worn yesterday. He hadn't shaved in a week and four days had gone by since his last shower. He knew he had let himself go but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn one way or another. He simply slumped in his chair in the darkened room and stared unseeing at the monitor, contemplating the ruin of his life while black waves of depression rolled over him. He knew he was obsessing on the subject, and if he had cared to he could have pinpointed the moment he had started down this dark road. But he didn't care to; he didn't care about much of anything. Except Grandpa, he did care about Grandpa, and a few of Grandpa's friends. Because Grandpa dulled the ache and helped him forget.

Oh he had tried, when the plane she had been flying had vanished over the Himalayas he had immediately called her on the specially designed world-wide, work anywhere (and I mean abso-friggen-lutly anywhere; even on the seafloor, even, once, when she had been on the friggen moon for Christ's sake he thought) communicator – but there had been no reply, not even the automatic response showing that the communicator had received his signal. Nor was her tracker chip emitting so much as a single electronic peep (which worried him more than he could say, because it was implanted in her and powered by her body heat – as long as she was alive it should have continued working). "Alive being the operative word here"; that treacherous little thought tickled the back of his mind. He had hacked into GJ, INTERPOL, The New Scotland Yard and a hundred other secret databases; no clue. He had sent out inquiries through the underworld info-net, offering rewards of money and technological assistance for any substantial lead; to no avail. He had hijacked top secret military spy satellites from half a dozen countries and scanned the area; nothing. He had sent his henchmen on searches, but they had found nothing. He had gone himself and spent three grueling, exhausting weeks searching; and turned up absolutely nothing. So yeah, I tried, he thought bitterly. I gave it my best shot, but like everything else in my fucked up life my best shot just wasn't good enough.

Two months ago the woman whom, despite their age difference, he had come to think of as a friend, the friend who had stuck by him through thick and thin for thirteen years, the woman whom he had actually begun thinking of as family, had disappeared. And he knew, deep, deep down in the recesses of the mind that spawn those midnight doubts, regrets and anxieties, he knew that he would never see her again.

Shego was gone, he had no friends, and now his only family was a cousin he hadn't spoken to in years. Thanks to the outstanding warrants for his arrest he hadn't even been able to attend his own mother's funeral he thought morosely. Even now, almost a year later, he still didn't dare even visit her gravesite. He was fifty years old and he had nothing; he had no one to love or to love him, he had no life, he had no achievements. He had nothing, he thought bitterly, nothing but depression, failure, and an overwhelming sense of loss and sorrow for a wasted, useless life.

His henchmen had deserted him too. As he had grown more and more sullen and withdrawn they had quit one by one until only himself and one of the Bebe robots remained in the hideout. He didn't care about that either, really, being alone suited him right now. The hideout was well stocked with the necessities, and if he needed anything he could order the Bebe to go get it

But I have Grandpa, he thought with dark humor as he prepared to take another swig from the bottle of Old Grandad he held in one hand. He and his friends Johnny and Jack are seeing me through my times of troubles.

But Grandpa had betrayed him too, the bottle was empty, which was kinda funny because he didn't remember drinking it all. With a half-hearted curse he dropped the bottle on the floor with the other empties and went to get another. There was plenty, a week ago (or was it two weeks, he had trouble remembering) he had finished the last of his henchmen's stash and in response to his half-drunken command of "Go get me a lotta booze" the Bebe robot had gone out with an aircar and pretty much emptied out a liquor store. Now, if only he could remember where he had told the robot to put it.

He was shuffling down the hallway peering into various rooms when something on one of the work-tables caught his eye and he went over to take a closer look. Slowly he walked over to the table and picked up the pistol-like device and stared at it as his alcohol soaked brain tried to remember just what it was. Then it came to him, sonic stunner. Supposed to stun the nervous system or cause disorientation or something like that he vaguely remembered.

"But I'll bet if I turned it all the way up and placed it just right it'd kill somebody" he thought to himself.

"Wait, why did I think of that?" he asked, aloud this time, although he was unaware of that.

"Because it would be so easy, so simple and then I wouldn't hurt anymore" he thought in reply.

"Me?" he said

"Yes, me." He thought. "Really simple, really easy and it would all be over. No more pain, no more nothing"

"All over" he whispered

"Yes, all over" he thought

He stood there for a long time, thinking and talking, before turning and walking out of the room, the sonic disruptor still clutched in his right hand.

He stumbled on down the hallway, still searching for the booze, when he turned a corner and saw the most amazing thing, people were running down the hallway toward him. How odd, he could have sworn he was the only one here. They were shouting something, it sounded like "Droppdagunnow" but he couldn't really make it out; and anyway who cared, it probably wasn't important anyway. What was important was the bright lights they were now shining in his eyes, it blinded him and so he raised his right hand to shield his eyes.

There was a loud noise and several somethings hit him in the chest; he had a brief sensation of being thrown backward.

And then there was nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Northern California; the Shasta-Trinity National Forest: 0230 local time**

Global Justice Senior Agent Will Du took a last look through the night binoculars at the false cliff- face in the fake hill that was some thirty meters away from his hide position. The hillside concealed an old bunker, built in the 1950s as part of a civil defense network for California's state government in the aftermath of a nuclear war. In the 1990s the bunker had been emptied out and forgotten; until one of Drakken's former henchmen had named it as a hideout as part of a plea-bargain deal.

It was time.

"_Rainbow, Rainbow this is Rainbow Lead; Status report in sequence, over."_

"_Red teams all set and ready, Over"_

"_Orange team set. Outer perimeter is secure. Over"_

"_Yellow team set and inner cordon is secure. Over."_

"_Green team set and ready, over."_

"_Blue team, set and ready, over."_

"_Indigo team, set and ready, over"_

"_Violet team, set and ready, over."_

"_Roger, stand by…" _

"_Gold, Gold, this is Rainbow lead; All teams in position set and ready."_

"_Rainbow lead, Gold leader; stand by …" _

Dr Betty Director turned and addressed the group of men and women clustered around the large holographic display map in the operations center. "Well ladies and gents, you heard him. It's kickoff time. Do we go or no?" The representative from the State of California's Attorney General's office spoke first; "Go" was all she said. The FBI liaison simply nodded, as did the Homeland Security man. The BATF representative looked undecided for a moment, but finally said "Yes". The California National Guard Colonel gave a nod, but the Air Force Major, who was listening intently to her radio held up her hand. "One second" she said. The second actually turned into about 90 seconds before she spoke to them again. "Sorry about that, there was private plane just a little to close. OK, we're all clear of air traffic in a 20 kilometer radius and the UAV operators say nothing's moving on the ground except us for 12 klicks around. I'd say go." Neither the local Sheriff's deputy nor the Park Ranger said anything; and they weren't asked. Their organizations had helped with logistics and had provided a wealth of local knowledge, but they both knew that now they were observers only. Best to stay out of the way, learn what they could, and see if they could make some useful contacts in the upper echelons of the law enforcement community.

"_Rainbow lead, Rainbow lead, this is Gold leader; you are a go for Touchdown, acknowledge."_

"_Gold leader, Rainbow lead; I acknowledge Touchdown is a go, executing in 60 seconds, over._

"_Roger, I copy 60 seconds. Good luck. Gold leader out."_

"_All Rainbow teams, Rainbow lead; Snapcount 40 seconds."_

"_Snapcount 10"_

"_Hut Hut Hut"_

Before the second "Hut" was out of Will's mouth Indigo team was already sprinting across the open field toward the cliff. Indigo team was the initial breach element, four men from the FBI's elite Hostage Rescue Team. They moved with the speed and precision of hard training and long practice, each man totally confidant in his own skills and the skills of his teammates. The first two were the actual demolitions men; they slid to a stop at the base of the cliff and from a carrying bag on their chest each man pulled out a roll of what looked like the self-adhesive weather-stripping you could buy at any Smarty-Mart or home improvement warehouse store. The two trailing members of the team were security, they did half turns to face each other and dropped down into a kneeling position; each scanning the hillside for any threat, weapons at the ready.

The left hand demo man slapped the free end of his roll against the base of the cliff and started moving to the left, laying down material as he went. The right hand man took a second to make sure the free end of his roll touched his partners and then drove a small U shaped connector into the two strips before laying his own strip to the right. Each man went precisely five feet, and then started upward. Seven feet up the cliff face they turned inward and ran their strips together. Two snips with a pair of scissors and another U connector and a ten foot by seven foot rectangle of Uni-directional explosive tape was formed. Each man and the security element then retreated left and right. Once outside the edge of the rectangle each demo man pulled out a small, bullet like detonator and twisted the base a quarter turn counter-clockwise, priming the device and activating a small LED "ready light". The two detonators were then shoved into the explosive and two short range infra-red transmitters were pulled out.

Clearly visible through the Infra-Red night vision glasses everyone was wearing the appearance of the LED lights on the detonators was Red Team's "go" signal. The four men designated Red-1 broke cover and charged toward the cliff face followed closely by the other Red squads.

Two fingers hit two buttons and with a surprisingly soft WHOOMP the UNIDEX tape blew through the foot and a half thick concrete wall of the concealed bunker.

The men of Red-1 had spread out into a line and were sprinting for all they were worth. All four were big, well-fit, men who each weighed close to 300 lbs and had been specially chosen for this task. Their weapons were slung across their backs and each carried a large poly-carbon shield strapped to their left arm. Without breaking stride they brought the shields up and hit the fake cliff face at full speed. The over half a ton of human battering ram did the trick and the wall crashed inward into a large room. Red-1 hit the ground, sliding forward on their bellies and through the ten foot wide gap poured the rest of Red Team, weapons sweeping the room, searching for targets. From Will Du's first "Hut", the entire operation had taken less than 15 seconds.

The room was empty, but that was not wholly unexpected and had been planned for. The six four man squads of Red Team kept on moving, spreading out through the structure, as per the plan. Will Du came trotting up with Blue and Green Teams who each continued deeper into the complex, intent on their own missions. He noted with approval that one of the medics was already checking the members of Red-1 for injuries. He motioned to the Violet Team leader, "We'll set up the CP and aid station in this room, and start laying out markers for the extraction LZ. Notify Gold that we're on target, with no contact yet" he told her.

With that taken care of Will allowed himself a second to inspect the wall where the breach had been blown. UNIDEX tape was a new thing; it was something the British MI-6 had developed for their double-Oh people and this was the first time GJ had used it operationally. Pretty darned impressive he thought. All the explosive power goes in one direction; that tape's only about a half inch thick but it cut right through a foot and a half of reinforced concrete. And quiet too, I was only, what? 30 meters, about 100 feet, away and I didn't even hear it go off.

**0240 local time**

Will listened to the reports coming in over his headset; still no contact. Something's not right, he thought, there should be at least a couple of henchmen as caretakers. "If this turns into a dry hole I swear to God that little snitch is gonna spend the next 20 years in a supermax" he muttered to himself. He stared at the situation monitor which projected a 3D schematic of the bunker with little red, blue, and green dots moving slowly around, showing the locations of his teams. Already almost half of the display was shaded light green, representing areas already checked and cleared. Where the hell was everybody?

**0245 local time**

"_Rainbow Lead, Rainbow Lead; Green Leader."_

"_Sendit Green Leader."_

"_Ah roger, we're in Greengirl's quarters, negative contact and I don't think she's around at all. Everything in here is covered with dust and there's a newspaper in here that's almost three months old. The energy detectors aren't picking her up either. I don't think she's been here for awhile, over."_

"_Roger Green Lead, keep looking. She could be masking her energy signature, until we can confirm otherwise assume she's in here, over."_

"_Roger, Green Lead out." _

"_Red, Blue..did you guys copy that?"_

"_Red Roger"_

"_Blue Roger"_

"_Rainbow Lead out"_

Did I say 20 years? Will thought to himself, that little SOB's gonna do 30 if he does a day.

**0305 local time**

"Sir", the Violet team leader came up to him "Red-5 reports that they found a Bebe robot and, ah, a room full of liquor."

"Liquor?"

"Yes sir, you know, whiskey, gin, vodka…I'm sorry sir, did you say..35 years?"

"Never-mind, just thinking out loud; did the Bebe attack? Is anyone hurt?"

"No sir, it just stood there. They hit it with an EMP projector and it just collapsed. I sent a Tech-team down to collect it up."

"OK, thanks."

**0307 local time**

"_Contact, Contact. Rainbow Control, this is Red-5. We got a reading on the motion detector. Moving toward us. Looks like one man sized target."_

Will bit down on his first impulse to cut in and start asking questions. Better to let the man on the scene handle it. He glanced at the tracker display. "Send Red-2 to back them up and put Red-5 on the speaker. Make sure you're recording audio and video feed from Red-5" He'd get almost as much real-time information that way, and he wouldn't be getting in Red-5's way while they were in contact.

"_just around the corner, getting close"_

"_It's Blueboy, say again Blueboy"_

"_Gun, he's got a gun" _

"_Global Justice, Drop the gun! Drop the gun now!"_

Everybody flinched a little as the shots rang out, audible over the radio circuit and a second later echoing up through the hallways of the bunker.

"_Rainbow Control, Rainbow Control this is Red Five. Shots fired my location. Blueboy is down, I say again Blueboy is down; we need a medic ASAP. No friendly casualties. Over."_

**Trinity County Sheriff's Office; Weaverville, CA . 0845 local time**

Dr Director closed the folder and looked at the man sitting on the couch in front of her temporary desk in her borrowed office. "You know, Will, there's nothing earth-shattering here, it could have waited until you rested a bit." "I know ma'am", he replied, "I just wanted to get a preliminary report in while it was still fresh in my mind." He gave her a small lopsided grin, "I'll get the full, final report with all the bells and whistles and color graphs and a dozen appendices to you in a couple of days; but there is one thing I wanted to talk to you about."

Dr Director cocked her eyebrow and made a little "come on" motion with her hand. "You don't think there'll be a problem with the shoot do you?" Will asked. "Gibbons was a little worried about the inquiry and I'd like to get back to him before we all hit the sack."

"Not at all", Dr Director replied. "He was an internationally wanted terrorist, he had a gun which he raised in a threatening manner after being told to drop it by a law-enforcement officer who had identified himself as such. And it's all on video tape. You can tell Gibbons to sleep easy." She paused a second before continuing "It was a good clean shoot Will, not like Dementor."

"Not like Dementor at all" Will thought to himself later, when he had finished reassuring Agent Gibbons. Dementor had been asleep with his girlfriend when we busted in on him, and was begging like a baby when we shot him. Hell she went down with more guts than he did, Will thought with disgust. Then we had to spend God knows how many hours with actors and voice synthesizers so we could get decent video of "Dementor's last stand". Not to mention the fact we had to steal a Neuralizer from those MiB idiots to use on Dementor's henchmen so they'd tell the right story. A royal goat screw from start to finish, that's what Dementor was.

But that was the past, and done with. The future was what concerned him now. Drakken and Dementor were dead. Monkey Fist was next on the list. The small fry like Frugal Lucre and Motor Ed had been visited, late at night, by very intimidating men, and told very firmly to behave themselves or else. Senior Senior Senior had been able to buy his way out of the outstanding warrants against him, which bothered Will a little, but as long as the old man kept his nose clean he could live with it.

He thought briefly about Shego. It was disappointing that she hadn't been at the bunker, but he wasn't too worried about her. Once the Cyber-Tech teams finished rooting around in Drakken's computers they'd find out where she went. And if not, well when all was said and done she was just a thief and hired muscle. She'd turn up somewhere, sometime.

All in all he was very satisfied; it had been a good day's work.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Author's note: I'm new at this; this is my first posted story. I'm especially concerned about the rating. I gave it an M due to the language, alcohol use and character death. But now I'm having second thoughts. I can edit out the language, are the alcohol use and character death enough, by themselves, to rate the M? I'd like to hear some thoughts on this. Please?


End file.
